The Camp Fire Girls at School eBook

Her joy was short-lived, however, for the play came
back even more promptly than the stories had.
Undaunted, she sent it out again and again. The
reasons given for rejection would have been amusing
if Migwan had not felt so disappointed. One said
there was insufficient plot; one said the plot was
too complicated; one said it was too long for a one-reel,
and the next said it was too short even for a split-reel.
Two places kept the return postage she had enclosed
and sent the manuscript back collect. Scenario
writing became a rather expensive amusement, instead
of a bringer of fortune. In spite of all this,
she kept on writing scenarios, for the fascination
of the game had her in its grip, and she would never
be satisfied until she succeeded. Lessons were
thrust into the background of her mind by the throng
of “scene-plots,” “leaders,”
“bust-scenes,” “inserts,” “synopses,”
etc., that flashed through her head continually.

To write steadily night after night, after the lessons
had been gotten out of the way, was a great tax on
her young strength. Nyoda was inflexible about
her stopping typewriting at nine o’clock, but
she went home and wrote by hand until midnight.
Nyoda was over at the house one afternoon when Migwan
was settling down to get her lessons, and saw her
take a dose from a phial.

“What are you taking medicine for?” she
asked.

“Oh, this is just something to tone me up,”
replied Migwan.

“What is it?” insisted Nyoda.

“It’s strychnine,” said Migwan.

“Strychnine!” said Nyoda in a horrified
voice. “Who taught you to take strychnine
as a stimulant?”

“Mabel Collins did,” answered Migwan.
“She said she always took it when she had a
dance on for every night in the week and couldn’t
keep up any other way, and it made her feel fine.”
Mabel Collins belonged to what the class called the
“fast bunch.”

“I’ll have a talk with Mabel Collins,”
said Nyoda with a resolute gleam in her eye.
“And, remember, no more of this ‘tonic’
for you. I knew girls in college who took strychnine
to keep themselves going through examinations or other
occasions of great physical strain, and they have
suffered for it ever since. If you are doing so
much that you can’t ‘keep up’ any
other way than by taking powerful medicines, it is
time you ‘kept down.’ Fresh air and
regular sleep are all the tonic you need. You
stay away from that typewriter for a whole week and
go to bed at nine o’clock every night.
I’m coming down to tuck you in. Now remember!”
And with this solemn warning Nyoda left her.